


Loose Ends

by BlueForestFox



Category: World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft (Comics), World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Completely Non-Canon, F/F, Jaina's family finds out she's married to the Warchief, fluff and wifey things, soft lesbians, totally ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 05:02:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18230276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueForestFox/pseuds/BlueForestFox
Summary: Same disclaimer as always: I am not a fan of canon Sylvanas. This piece is a follow up to my earlier "Past Pains and Present Fears" which was solely inspired by some excellent Jaina/Sylvanas fic from some other AO3 peeps. This one is exactly what the title suggests: placing the previous piece I wrote into better story context. Thanks to some great insight and questions from people who read the previous fic, I came up with some ideas as to the larger 'goings-on' in azeroth. This piece is just tying up those loose ends. Ridiculously.Jaina is rescued from Thros and Gorak Tul by Katherine, she becomes the Lord Admiral, and can now bring the Kul Tiran fleet alongside both the Alliance and the Horde in the fight against N'Zoth and the Old Gods. There's just one problem: her family isn't overly keen on allying with the Horde, and Jaina hasn't even told them she happens to be married to the Warchief. The same Warchief who has just received word of her wife's initial banishment to Thros, and who has just set sail with the entirety of the Horde fleet bound on retribution.Not canon at all, totally shameless. Enjoy :)





	Loose Ends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarieAnne_Cormier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieAnne_Cormier/gifts), [MrHistoryman14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrHistoryman14/gifts).



> Thanks for all the encouragement and feedback. You guys are the best. :3

The journey to Kul Tiras was almost unbearable, and nothing short of absolutely agonizing. Sylvanas had taken to standing at the prow of the flag ship, as if her indomitable will alone might coax greater speed from their sails. Even over the roar of the ocean and the spray of the salt through cold air, the chatter of her own mind was deafening. She paced. Movement of any kind seemed to help, regardless of the fact that it did nothing to shrink the distance between her and her destination. She drove them on with as much speed as they could muster, great prows slicing waves as their course passed through stormy seas. Never once did she journey to her cabin, and through all hours as moon and sun wheeled overhead she pushed them onwards. It was more than likely that they made a quicker course than any in history before them, as they closed the gap to Kul Tiras. Still, it wasn’t fast enough. It never could have been fast enough. 

By the time news of Jaina’s fate at the hands of her homeland’s leaders had reached the Banshee Queen, it was already weeks old. Sylvanas cursed the sluggish course of information, and pressed forward now with clear and violent purpose. Only one thing drowned it all out. Only one thing overrode the sounds of the sea, the creak of the ship, the roar of her thoughts as she grasped the gunnels with enough strength as to drive her armored fingers into the sturdy wood. Rage. Rage was safe. It smothered fear, desperation, whatever other cursed things she felt, it smothered them all like hot coals. Rage gave her strength, boundless energy, and it seared through her now as it so often did, a deep burning in her bones that was so very familiar.

 

\-----------

 

In the wake of the arrival of the Kul Tiran fleet, an almost eerie calm had settled over the harbor. Great ships sat moored in calm waters, mighty giants, a legendary host stilled during such a quiet lull in the storm. In the wake of Jaina’s rescue from the clutches of Gorak Tul, a sense of peace had descended on Boralus as the title of Lord Admiral was passed to the former leader of the Kirin Tor.

The Proudmoore family had already sat at council together, and though Tandred was still of a mind to exaggerate every time he spoke the words ‘Lord Admiral’, both he Katherine had placed their full support behind Jaina. Jaina, for her part, had spoken to them both openly. Secrets did not bode well between family members in times of war. With the world on the brink of destruction at the hands of N’Zoth, Jaina hoped that her family would be able to do what she had done; To cast aside old grievances, no matter how dire, for the sake of saving Azeroth. It was a sacrifice she had not originally been prepared to make, and one that was difficult beyond measure to ask of her kin. 

She was Lord Admiral, and as such the fleet was hers to command, but the news that her goal was an allegiance with the Horde did not make for light conversation. She shared her purpose with her family: to bring the Kul Tiran fleet beside the might of both Horde and Alliance together, only then would they stand a chance against the wrath of the rising Old Gods. As if telling her family they would fight beside Orcs was not difficult enough, sharing the truth of her marriage was even more challenging. Political marriages for the sake of preserving a shaky and necessary pact between Horde and Alliance were a logical choice, and Jaina’s had been only one of a number. 

Katherine took the news better than Tandred, but it was achingly clear the only reason was out of necessity, and Jaina couldn’t help but wonder where they would all stand if N’Zoth was defeated. What then? Had they not been at the utmost end of need, surely her mother and brother would not suffer any business with the Horde that did not come at the point of a sword. This she knew as she looked at their stormy expressions, Tandred’s fists clenched over the map table around which they stood. And what of her? Where would she stand?

Jaina pushed it from her mind and focused on the present. The most important thing now was to get word back to both the Alliance and the Horde that she had successfully marshalled the fleet. Together the Proudmoore’s made preparations for war, and Jaina, relieved and grateful for her family’s grudging understanding, prepared a message to send to the mainland. 

Her timing could not have been more prudent. 

 

\-------

 

Dawn rose slow through the sea mists that swirled through the Boralus Harbor. Strange shapes encroached on the bay, and as the sun’s light cleared the air, the shadows seemed to multiply. 

Tandred made his way to the foredeck and looked out across the water, his jaw falling slack as the forms of almost a hundred ships emerged from rising fog. They sliced across the waves in a mighty tide, their numbers spread in the shape of a spear, at the point of which led the flagship. The crafts sat low and long in the water, iron reinforcements to the hull adding spikes to the silhouettes of the ships, their sails snapped in the sea wind as crimson as lifeblood. The ship at the lead had a massive iron spike fashioned to it’s prow, over which was a skull crafted of metal and scoured light grey by sea brine. It’s sails billowed from three masts, their coloring a deep purple, and something about the very sight of it made Tandred’s blood run cold. He was a mere moment from calling the Kul Tiran fleet to sail against the great host that faced them, when the encroaching navy slowed. 

It was only Jaina’s words from their council before that kept Tandred’s hand off the hilt of his sword as he spied the Horde insignia flying high beside a flag of truce. He slowly coaxed his own ship forward as the Horde fleet spilled the wind from their sails, and only the flagship continued. The two vessels met at the heart of the harbor, each flanked by their own forces, and there under mutual flags of truce Captain Tandred Proudmoore met the Warchief of the Horde. 

 

\------

 

A harried looking serving boy had brought the news to Jaina as she sat finishing letters in the overlarge and musty study. The Horde fleet had dropped anchor just beyond the harbor, and some of their number had come ashore. Jaina tried to ignore the fluttering in her chest as she thanked the boy for the news and tossed aside some of the letters she had written. It seemed the Horde already knew of her success with the fleet. How they came to be there, and why, raised more questions than Jaina could puzzle out. For a moment it was all she could do to maintain focus through the current of  _ Sylvanas _ that streaked through her mind. 

She followed the chattering of gossiping guards through the halls of Proudmoore Keep, until she found her way to the council chamber she had sat in with her family not one day prior. Katherine was leaving just as Jaina arrived, and Tandred was nowhere to be seen. Jaina’s mother closed the door slowly, her expression dark and her jaw tight. She appreaised her daughter as Jaina pulled to a stop before her. Katherine looked almost as she had the day Jaina returned, and though Jaina knew it was not directed at her, she could feel her stomach sink. 

“This war, it seems, asks more of me than I am prepared to give. Even now the Warchief of the Horde is a guest in my keep, and my daughter…..” she trailed off. 

“I’m sorry mother.” Jaina’s eyes were downcast, but flicked up as Katherine placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“We all must make sacrifices.” Katherine said tightly. “If this is what it takes to save the very world we walk upon, so be it.” She sighed heavily, and managed a sad half-smile of resignation. “I’ll give you two a...moment.” She finished stiffly, before dropping her hand from Jaina’s shoulder and walking past her daughter down the hall. Jaina’s eyes followed her mother as she left, before she turned to the door. There was an almost nauseating tingling in her feet and fingers, and felt she as though she was trembling, despite how steady her hand was on the massive door. She tried to take a deep and steady breath, though it fluttered unevenly as she exhaled. When she finally pushed the door open she did so only enough to permit herself entrance, and before even taking in the room on the other side she twisted to close it quietly behind her. 

The instant she turned back to face the room she almost cried out in surprise as a figure advanced from mere feet behind her, and she almost got a mouthful of silvery hair as she was suddenly wrapped in an a fierce embrace. There was a strong smell of cold metal, sea salt, leather, and beneath it all a faint whisper of crushed lilies, every piece of it so distinctly familiar. 

Words slipped from Jaina’s mind, and she could only let out a small cry of relief, joy, and shock that was all but lost in her lover’s neck and shoulder. When they broke apart and Jaina was able to properly fill her lungs with air, all she could think to say was,

“Sylvanas...what..how?” 

The elf’s eyes blazed fierce and crimson as her gaze passed across the figure of the woman before her, before settling on her face. There was something almost frightening in the intensity with which Sylvanas looked at her, and Jaina pulled her forward, this time into a kiss. Jaina hadn’t even bothered to see who else, if anyone, was in the room. It could have been Tandred. Or Kul Tiran guards. She surprised herself in that moment by not giving a damn. She tasted the cool of her lover’s lips and held her tightly, as though she was afraid to let go. 

When they finally broke apart a second time Jaina did survey the room, and found it empty. Sylvanas still held both her shoulders, and looked as though she might embrace Jaina again. For a moment, however brief, Jaina saw something gentle and frightened flicker deep within the stalwart fire of Sylvanas’ eyes. 

“Jaina. I am so sorry. I came as soon as I heard but….” Her brows knotted suddenly together and her gaze turned violently downwards. “I should never have let this happen. I should never have let you go alone.” 

“No.” Jaina spoke gently, her mind still grappling with the fact that Sylvanas was  _ here _ , and she carefully placed a hand to her wife’s cheek so as to lock eyes with her. “This was something I had to do alone. For all that happened, it meant at least that I finally healed the bonds of my family. And what’s more, I have the fleet.” She touched a hand to the anchor pendant that hung at her breast.  

“I still should have been with you. Maybe then….”

“Love. Please.” Jaina leveled her gaze. “This could only have worked out the way it did. You know that. There is nothing more that you could or should have done.”

“I heard what happened. I heard what they did to you, what you suffered.” Sylvanas spoke in level tones, but Jaina could hear something deep and dangerous rising slowly in her lover’s voice. 

“This was my fight.” Jaina took both of Sylvanas’ hands in her own. “Thanks to my mother I was saved, and thanks to that we have since made peace. Only because of this was I granted the fleet, and my family,” She forced a small laugh “ _ my family _ agreed to ally with the Horde as well as the Alliance.”

Sylvanas fell silent but her brows remained deeply furrowed, and Jaina could feel the strength with which her wife’s cold hands gripped her own.

“We set out mere hours after I received word.” Sylvanas’ voice had quieted, though only slightly. “We came prepared for a fight, but I knew as soon as the harbor came in sight it wasn’t necessary. As soon as I saw the fleet I knew you had been successful. That you were…alright. I boarded and Tandren told me all that had passed, what had happened to you, and to your mother.” 

“Well, for my brother’s sake I am glad it was so. He has grudgingly accepted a tenuous pact with the Horde. He and my mother even know about...that we’re…” Jaina trailed off slightly awkwardly, and for the first time since they were reunited Sylvanas’ brows shot up in surprise. Whatever she may have thought, she didn’t speak to it, and it passed quickly as her expression fell back into something dark. Jaina spoke in gentle tones, unable to ignore that ominous glow building in the back of her lover’s eyes. She had seen it before. 

“We have peace. We have the fleet.” She held Sylvanas’ hands tightly as she spoke. “I’m alright.” 

Some of the tension finally lifted from the Banshee Queen’s shoulders, and she pulled Jaina forward into a much gentler and less smothering embrace. Jaina welcomed it, and they stood there for a long moment before Sylvanas finally spoke. 

“Where is she.” It was a question, even if it didn’t come out as one. Between the elf’s words and the burning look in those scarlet eyes, Jaina finally understood. She pulled away and surveyed Sylvanas at arms reach. 

“No. This is over.” Jaina shook her head, and Sylvanas openly glared. Such was her way, Jaina knew. That fire in her eyes, the hatred that never seemed to leave her bones.  _ Retribution _ . 

“Where is Lady Ashvane.” Sylvanas almost snarled. 

“No, Sylvanas we need her alive. She has information that we need about the Irontide Raiders and the Azerite weapons. You cannot harm her.”

“So I am to sit by idly and do nothing after you were thrown into a nightmare realm and the woman responsible still draws breath? You should know me better than that, Dalah’surfal.” The usually affectionate term had a bite to it, and Jaina could hear the anger through her lover’s teeth. 

Jaina shook her head, placed what she hoped was a steadying hand on Sylvanas’ shoulder. “I  _ do  _ know you. That’s why I don’t trust you not to harm her. I’ve seen what happens when you’re angry.”

_ Not like this.  _

Sylvanas stared at her for a long moment, before twisting her mouth in contempt, and biting off the next words she spoke.

“And if I gave you my word I would not harm her?”

“I’m not sure I would believe you.” 

They stood in silence for a long moment, their shoulders squared, before Sylvanas finally let out a long sigh. 

“If you truly wish Lady Ashvane not be harmed, if that is your honest desire, then I will not harm her. I would, however, ask to speak with her.” The Banshee Queen’s tone was gentler now, enough that Jaina released the breath she wasn’t even conscious of holding. 

“What oath can you make that I will believe.” Jaina measured her words as she spoke them. 

“If it is  _ your _ command that she go unharmed, I will not..” Sylvanas held a hand out as she spoke, which Jaina tentatively took, “I will not and would not go against you. Ever.” 

Jaina stared at her for a long moment, and for an instant could almost see that deep fire that threatened to burn her wife from the inside out if it was not satisfied. 

“Tol Dagor.” Jaina spoke slowly. 

Sylvanas nodded. 

“As I said. You have my word I will not harm her.” 

_ Yet.  _

 

\-------

 

Lady Priscilla Ashvane was roused sometime around midnight by troubled dreams. She shook herself blearily, and raised herself to sit on the small straw covered cot. The moon’s light filtered across the stone, cut into a latticework by the bars of the cell. 

The eerie noises and guttering of torches that filled Tol Dagor seemed somewhat muffled, the air strange, and colder than it ought to have been. Priscilla pulled her meager prison blanket about her shoulders like a cloak and shuddered against the chill. It was then that she realized how unusually dark it was. Her little corner cell was always in the shadows, but all the torches on the nearby wall had gone out, the lantern as well. Shapes seemed to shift in the dark corners of the hall beyond her cell bars, and her eyes strained to see. 

“Hello?” Her voice seemed muted, muffled. The silence that had descended was as thick and dark as the inky black beyond her small squares of moonlight. Her very breath sounded deafening in her ears, as the shadows twisted beyond the edge of her vision. She pulled the cloak tighter about her shoulders. There was a faint whisper, a trembling of air that made all the hair on the back of her neck stand up. A voice that sounded like smoke and fear and the chill of iron, rippled through the darkness, seeming to come from all about her. 

_ “What do you know of death, Ashvane?”  _

Lady Ashvane shrieked and whirled, looking at once all about her as she searched for the source of the phantasmal voice. So violently did she twist that she flung herself from the cot to land heavily on her knees. Still her eyes scanned the darkness. 

It hadn’t been a trick of the light. The shadows were moving. 

A smokey black tendril snaked close enough for Priscilla to make out it’s form before it retreated again to the swirling black. She felt as if ghostly hands reached for her from all sides, the warmth of her blood stolen away as cold and dark descended about her. She huddled in her small moonlit patch. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice quavered. 

_ What do you know of pain? Of fear? Tell me, Lady Ashvane.” _

Ashvane let out a small mewling noise as she scanned the dark. Shadows coiled and twisted, a form slowly taking shape just beyond the bars of her cell. She could make out little in the swirling black, but there, unmistakable, were two glowing crimson eyes. 

_ “I have a gift for you, Lady Ashvane.” _ The echoing voice solidified until it’s direction aligned with those glowing eyes. Shadows swirled, the darkness moved toward Priscilla’s huddled, terrified form, until there before her, just beyond the iron bars, stood a woman unlike any she had ever seen. So strange it was, to see something both so fair, and so terrible. The elf before her had the palest skin, long ears, and hair of wispy silver that swirled in the dark. What arms or armor she bore could not be seen, for all about her form shadows swirled and twisted, a cloak woven from the darkness itself. Her eyes were crimson, and glowed with a burning hatred that froze Priscilla’s blood. 

“Wha….what  _ are _ you?” Ashvane managed in a weak gasp. 

“I am your fate, Lady Ashvane. I have a gift for you.” A malicious smile played across the fey woman’s lips. “I promise you fear. I promise you pain.” 

Priscilla shuddered and huddled under her blanket, seeming desperate to make herself as small as possible. 

“I promise you agony undreamt of, and a slow death worse than you can possibly imagine.” The shadows around the elven woman coiled violently, her skin darkened until she seemed to become a vapor, and passed like thick smoke through the bars to stand a mere span of hands from where Ashvane shivered. Priscilla shrieked and scrabbled backwards like an oversized crab as she sacrificed her moonlit patch to press herself as tightly as she could into the corner of her cell. The elven woman regained some of her solidity, her form still mostly obscured by the darkness that obeyed her as though it was alive. 

“One day soon, when your usefulness has run its course, I will come for you. This, I promise.” The last ‘s’ dissipated among the fluttering noises of the tendrils of shadow as they writhed suddenly. The elven woman’s eyes blazed like dragonfire, the darkness around her shuddering as she snarled. Her mouth opened and the cold and deathly air was rent by a howling scream that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Priscilla felt her chest seize and limbs grow cold as the keening sound filled her with a sense of horror and dread the likes of which she had never known before. Her heart hammered desperately against her ribs as the air trembled and the darkness whirled in a violent storm. Priscilla curled into a tight, wailing, terrified ball as cold, fear, and shadow gnawed at her bones. 

When she finally ran out of air with which to scream, and managed to lift a trembling head, the elf woman was gone. The moon shone through the bars above, the torches in the corner were alight and sputtering once more, and were it not for a cold fear that coursed hungrily through her veins, she might have thought the entire encounter a dream. 

 

\-------

 

Tandred almost knocked the door to the map room off its hinges as he trod his way heavily inside, slamming it behind him. Katherine, for all her composure, merely glanced up from the map of the maelstrom she had been looking over. She stood with her weight on her hands, her back to the window that looked out on the harbor. Aside from her and Tandred, the room was empty.

Tandred stalked to the table and all but threw his tricorn across it, freeing his shaggy blonde hair so as to run a gloved hand through it in frustration. His other hand balled into a fist, which he promptly slammed against the table. Katherine’s mouth twisted in slight distaste as she stood to her full height and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Something bothering you?” She asked dryly. They didn’t have time for childish behavior. 

“Something  _ should  _ be bothering you.” He gestured wildly, before taking a few deep breaths and grinding his knuckles against the wood of the table. She raised an eyebrow. 

“You had expressed a willingness to cooperate with----”

“This isn't about the damned Horde.” He cut his mother off. “This is about Jaina. This is about the Warchief.” His eyes were alight with that fire Katherine knew so well, and she was surprised to see, for a moment, how much in his anger he looked like his father. 

“Ah.” Katherine said, and uncrossed her arms, moved them to her hips. “Well. I understand your frustration then. I myself have more than enough reservations. Especially once this is all over. Assuming we’re all still alive, what then? Still. I understand the decision. I would expected with your mind for strategy that you would understand it as well.” 

“It’s not about--” He blustered for a moment before making a wild flailing gesture with one of his arms. “This isn’t about  _ strategy _ ! It’s a political marriage. It’s logical. I understand that and as I said when Jaina first told us, even though it does not sit well with me, I  _ accept _ it. As you do.” 

Katherine frowned slightly. “If that’s the case, and we’re of like mind, then what has you in such a state as to take out agressions on my door and table?” She was running out of patience, but as always, remained tact. 

“It’s about the way they look at each other!” Tandred finally blurted, before making a frustrated noise and pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. When he finally gathered himself he continued on in gentler tones. “Mother, you would have to be blind to see that this marriage may have been formed for political reasons, but it’s become more than that.” 

Katherine was quiet for a span of moments, and seemed to be weighing her words. “I have seen it. It troubles me only because I worry about where all this will lead in the future. For now, though….for this moment in time...I am grateful for it.” 

Tandred stared at his mother with a look of blatant shock.  

“Katherine, how….? How can you feel comfortable with Jaina being with that... _ monster?” _

Katherine slowly walked towards the window and gestured for her son to follow, before folding her hands behind her back. When they reached it, they looked out through weathered glass at the harbor, the Kul Tiran fleet, and the vast Horde Navy just beyond. 

“Tandred, that “monster” sailed the entire Horde fleet here for Jaina’s sake. It was my own actions that put Jaina at risk in the first place. You’d be more right in directing your anger towards me. Who knows what the future will bring. If we will even survive. All I know is that for now, I trust my daughter’s judgement. And,” she said after a brief pause, “impulsiveness aside, this Warchief’s actions on behalf of my daughter, your sister, make me comfortable enough knowing they have each other. I cannot imagine the wounds of these wars the Horde carries are any easier to put aside than our own.” 

She looked at Tandred, who’s stern face showed a ghost of realization, before settling into a contemplative frown. Katherine placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Jaina has helped secure a pact between us, the Horde, and the Alliance. Given the circumstances I don’t think anyone else could have managed. And Tandred,” he looked at her as she spoke his name, and she gave out a little huff of air that was almost a laugh. “Far be it from either of us to forbid Jaina to love.” Tandred nodded jerkily, though his frown remained. Katherine kept her hand on her son’s shoulder.

_ Family, friends, partners. Love. It’s what we have that our enemy doesn’t. I pray it will be enough.  _


End file.
